Requests---OPEN
by Kurino
Summary: Alright! I have decided to take requests from y'all, so, feel free to drop one!
1. Rules and Stuff

**A.N. [AUTHOR'S NOTE]**

Alright, I have decided to take [but not pertaining to] fictlet, drabble, or songfic requests from those who want one~

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How you should format the ask:

Song [optional-this is only for songfics]:

Paring/Character:

Genre:

AU [Alternate Universe]:

Short description of what happens **[optional, though PM me if that is the case!]**:

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Here's the Rules, though:

1. Don't rush me! This is only for fun, and I don't want this to become a stressful problem!

2. I accept virtually anything: any headcannon, any paring, any AU, you get the point~

3. If you don't like the paring, don't read it!

4. Don't message-spam me, if that comes about, I will ignore your request.

5. No hate, either, please!

6. I do have the right to turn down a request if I see fit, or am uncomfortable with doing so.

7. This is only for Homestuck stuff, so, please do not request otherwise.

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Alright! I shall await responses, starting now! See y'all later~


	2. Ouch

Dave folded his arms, standing in one of the hallways of John's house.

"Alright, almost done..!" A shout comes from the black-haired boy, and a crash suddenly breaks what little silence was ringing through the two-story abode. John pokes his head from the doorway of the bathroom, chuckling a bit. Dave rolls his eyes. But that wasn't seen.

"What the hell are you even doing in there, Egderp? Don't tell me that this is another one of your shitty ploys to pathetically attempt to do something stupid."

"Psh. Of course not!" John replied, now opening the door to the bathroom a bit more. "Just hurry up and get in!"

Dave complies, his eyes first meeting a moderately sized block of wood. Probably being 6 inches by 4, and 4 inches high…

"Oh shit. What are you doing? This is so fucking ironic that it actually might be entertaining."

"Alright, I'm gonna try to get this into the bathtub."

"That's it? No other intricately ignorant-"

"…backwards and blindfolded."

If he wasn't so cool, he'd most likely be looking at the blackette in disbelief. This was going to be fun. It'd be a miracle of some sort if no-one was injured. Dave blinks, seeing John standing before him, a plain white blindfold in his hands. His rectangular glasses were off, placed to the side near the porcelain sink.

"Can you help me put this on?"

"..Sure."

Dave folded the thing lengthwise, just in case, then tying it snugly around the other's head, ending with a double knot. John already had the block in his hand, and was slowly trying to find out which way the tub was, turning his back to where he thought it was.

After what felt like an hour, John aims for the tub, his arms swinging in unison in a sort of arch, then catapulting the block of wood into the bathtub. He couldn't have gotten it _that_ easily. He must have had practice beforehand…

With hearing the loud, hollow '_clank!'_ of the wooden block, John pries off the blindfold, then undoing the tight knots in the fabric. He grabs his glasses to replace them on his nose bridge.

"You should try it now, Dave."

"Alright, I will."

John ties the blindfold around Dave's head, covering his eyes beneath his shades.

"This is so fucking stupid. Egbert, I swear, if you even try anything, I will kick your ass to next week and give you one of those insufferably idiotic post-cards that says 'Have a good trip, come back soon!' in some fancy WordArt and an overly-saturated picture of a beach on the front. I'll even add a personal message with a completely ironic picture to go with it."

John pouted, handing the blindfolded blonde the actually rather hefty block of wood, Dave raising an eyebrow. This shouldn't be too bad. Nothing he couldn't handle, of course. Little did Strider know as he carefully aimed, was several things:

He was facing the wrong way.

This is stupid.

John had placed the flat-billed end of a well hidden shovel not far away from him, the handle just a bit farther than his crotch.

Never.

Trust.

Egbert.

Too bad, too. Dave, who was relatively calm [he knew that he would "make" it], tossed the block behind him, waiting to hear the successful "_clank_" of dense wood hitting hollowed plastic, though, it never came.

"John. What the hell? Don't tell me that this is just some sick mindfuck and you're doing some voodoo shit or something-"

Oh, wait.

A satisfactory _"twang_" of the vibrating metal due to impact sounded out, followed by a uncharacteristically cool chocked sob mixed with a bit of a whine.

Dave knew one thing, though.

"_GOGDAMMIT JOHN..!"_

And all was well.


End file.
